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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902529">A Slow Death by Chocolate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/16woodsequ/pseuds/16woodsequ'>16woodsequ</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers Has PTSD [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Food Issues, Food Trauma, Gen, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Super Soldier Metabolism is Not a Fun Time, The Avengers Are Good Bros, WW2, menu fatigue, rations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/16woodsequ/pseuds/16woodsequ</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a while for Bruce to notice Steve's aversion to a certain delicacy. But when he does, he can't help wondering why the treat seems to make Steve slightly nauseous.</p><p>Turns out that a super soldier metabolism has far reaching consequences.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner &amp; Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers Has PTSD [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>263</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Slow Death by Chocolate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Steve doesn’t like chocolate.</p><p>Bruce doesn’t really notice anything till around Christmas time, because Steve doesn’t <em>mention </em>it, but once Christmas rolls around, chocolate becomes much more abundant around the Tower than usual.</p><p>Probably the first indication is when they exchange presents a few days before Christmas, and Clint gives Steve a large box of assorted chocolates.</p><p>“I figured there are probably kinds you haven’t tried before now,” he tells him as Steve opens the box. Steve’s nose twitches and his mouth opens for a second as he stares at the box, but then he nods and smiles, giving Clint an easy thanks before setting his gift aside and moving on to give his own present.</p><p>The box of assorted chocolates ends up on the common room kitchen counter, which basically means that it’s free game, and over the next few days, the Avengers help Steve work through the collection, picking away at it like crows until the thing is empty.</p><p>“What’d you think?” Clint asks him, perking up from his spot next to Bruce on the common room couch as Steve comes in to throw away the empty box.</p><p>“It was good,” Steve replies as Bruce tries to think of a time he’d actually seen the Captain indulge in his own gift. He can’t think of any specific instance, but he’s sure Steve must have had at some point. He just privately hopes that he’d managed to have enough of a taste, what with the Avengers swooping down on it themselves.</p><p>Clint then goes off on a discussion of his favourite kinds of chocolates as Steve drifts over to listen, mostly nodding and humming along as he talks. “So yeah,” Clint concludes. “Orange creams are probably my favourite. What about you?”</p><p>Steve blinks for a second. “Oh, those ones are pretty good,” he says, and Clint smiles, satisfied by his response.</p><p> </p><p>The second indication is when the Avengers get recruited to help pass out hot chocolate at some sort of city winter festival. It’s a good opportunity to get some positive press for the Avengers, and passing out little styrofoam cups of hot chocolate isn’t that hard, so Bruce finds himself enjoying the work.</p><p>Steve is on the same shift as him though, and he can’t help noticing that he looks a little more stressed than usual. He smiles and engages well with the excited children who come up to visit him, but there seems to be extra lines on his face when nobody is at their booth, and his hands seem to fiddle anxiously with the cuffs of his coat as he taps his foot.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Bruce asks him as he checks the hot chocolate levels in the carafe. He might have Natasha bring a refill when her shift starts.</p><p>Steve’s eyes dart to his, and his lips press together for a second before he nods. “Yeah,” he says thinly. “Yeah, it’s just…” He brings his gloved hands up to rub them together. “It’s just that cold isn’t exactly my favourite thing.”</p><p>Bruce’s eyes widen as he is abruptly reminded that Steve had spent the last few decades frozen under the ice, and that he has every reason to dislike the cold now. “Are you alright?” he asks again, a new urgency entering his voice. “If you want you can find somewhere to go inside. It’s not really busy right now, I don’t mind.”</p><p>Next to him, Steve shakes his head and wipes his nose. “It’s okay,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “The shift’s almost over anyways. I’ll be fine until then.”</p><p>Bruce nods reluctantly and takes him at his word, even if he can’t help being aware of the fact that Steve remains slightly on edge for the rest of their shift.</p><p> </p><p>It’s actually the last incident that prompts him to make hot chocolate again, this time in the comfort of the Tower. The other Avengers had been called out for a short mission, but he had stayed behind, because the Other Guy wouldn’t be much help on this one.</p><p>He can’t help thinking of the cold weather though, and about how Steve is probably uncomfortable with it again, so when he gets the message that they are all on their way back, he sets up a large pot on the stove in the common room kitchen, and gets to work preparing the chocolate drink to help warm them up once they return.</p><p>His efforts are met with delight on nearly all sides.</p><p>“Oh awesome!” Clint chants as they spill out of the elevator, the archer making a beeline for a stool by the counter and wrapping his red hands around the mug that Bruce places in front of him. “You’re the best Bruce,” he says as he reaches forward to grab a handful of mini marshmallows that Bruce has set out in a small bowl.</p><p>Tony echoes that sentiment as he accepts his own mug and Natasha slips in neatly beside him, elbowing Clint’s hand away from another handful of marshmallows.</p><p>Thor is currently away from the Tower, so Bruce turns to place his final mug in front of Steve, the man having yet to sit down at the counter, his stance shifting a little as he flicks his eyes over the group. Next to him, Clint takes a deep sip of his drink and lets out a sigh. “This is really good,” he declares, before glancing over at Steve and his neglected mug. “You gonna sit down? This stuff is pure gold, lemme tell you.”</p><p>Bruce flicks his eyes up to look at Steve, and notices how his throat flexes as he swallows, his face strangely pale as he tugs on the pant leg of his suit. “Uh,” he says, before he clears his throat, his teeth clenching. “I think I’ll pass. I want to change out of my suit anyways.”</p><p>Clint blinks as Steve makes a hasty retreat back to the elevator, and he looks back to the other Avengers. “He okay?” he asks. “I mean, I was just going to get changed afterwards.”   </p><p>Bruce’s lips purse and he taps his fingers on the counter as he thinks, his eyes flicking to the wintery landscape outside the Tower windows. Maybe the cold bothered Steve more than he thought. His eyes drop down to the abandoned cup of cocoa, and he can’t figure out why Steve would forgo it if that were the case.</p><p>“I’m going to go check on him,” he decides out loud, turning to make sure the stove is off, before heading out to the elevator and waiting as JARVIS opens the doors for him and begins to take him down to Steve’s floor.</p><p>He hasn’t actually been to Steve’s room before, but he sucks in a breath and sets his shoulders. He just wants to make sure that Steve is okay — the man had looked a little off up in the common room. He feels a small rumble in the back of his head, which he chooses to interpret as the Other Guy nodding in agreement, and he lifts his hand to knock at Steve’s door.</p><p>He doesn’t have to wait long before he gets called to enter, and Bruce pushes the door open, glancing around as he takes in the small entryway. “I’m in the kitchen!” Steve calls, and Bruce steps fully inside, shutting the door behind him before beginning to make his way down the hall.</p><p>Steve’s rooms are almost an exact reflection of his own, the hall opening up into a small kitchen before continuing on to a living room, and Bruce finds Steve standing by the counter that serves as a dining table, the man now dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants as he waits for an electric kettle to boil.</p><p>Bruce flicks his eyes over the kettle and Steve’s waiting mug, and he catches the man wincing. He isn’t really offended that Steve is preparing his own hot drink, but he <em>is</em> a little confused.</p><p>“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bruce says, pulling his eyes away from the kettle. “You seemed a little stressed upstairs.”</p><p>Steve swallows, looking slightly uncomfortable as he taps his fingers on the counter. “Yeah,” he says, bringing his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, not quite meeting Bruce’s eyes. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean…” His jaw flexes and he drops his hand, flicking his eyes up at Bruce. “I just don’t really like chocolate,” he finishes tightly.</p><p>Bruce blinks. “Oh,” he says, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “That’s fine. I didn’t know. I would have made you something else.”</p><p>Steve chews on his lip and his eyes drift over to the kettle, his fingers tapping a rapid rhythm on the counter as he waits. “Yeah.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I usta like it, but not anymore.”</p><p>Bruce finds his head tilting, and he thinks back to the pale expression on Steve’s face from earlier. The tense look had seemed to imply a little more than just simply not liking chocolate. “How come?” he asks, coming closer to sit at the stool at the counter, hoping that he isn’t prying too much.</p><p>Steve’s gaze jumps up to him and he seems to scan him for a moment before he looks down again. “It’s kind of silly,” he admits, rubbing his finger along the grain of the marble countertop. “I just… had to eat it a lot during the war.”</p><p>Bruce’s eyes blink in surprise, and he leans forward slightly. “Really?” he asks, confusion lacing his voice.</p><p>Steve’s mouth quirks up at him, and his kettle clicks to indicate that his water is ready. “Yeah,” he replies, turning to pour the water into his mug, holding the prepared tea bag so that it doesn’t float away. “Do you know much about the rations we had?”</p><p>Bruce shakes his head, and Steve sets his cup aside to let it steep, leaning his arms on the counter and holding on to his elbows as he waits. “Well, we had two main rations,” he starts. “The K-ration, and the C-ration.” He gives Bruce a dry smile. “Apparently we were supposed to supplement those with actual fresh A-rations, but more often than not, we lived off of the canned stuff for weeks.”</p><p>Bruce nods along with Steve’s explanation, and the Captain sighs, his eyes flicking to his tea. “The rations got old pretty quickly,” he says, his gaze going a little distant. “They had a little variety, but after a while it didn’t matter. And it was worse for me, because I was on double rations.”</p><p>Bruce’s eyes widen. “Because of your serum,” he states, and Steve nods.</p><p>“Yeah,” he agrees, standing up to grab his mug and holding it in his hands. “They estimated that I needed about eight-thousand to ten-thousand calories a day.” He gives Bruce a crooked smile. “As you can imagine, that’s a little hard to supply.”</p><p>Bruce nods, and Steve takes a sip of his tea, blowing on it a little before continuing. “The problem was, the total amount of calories in a K-ration is about 2,830,” he says. “And the total amount in a C-ration is 3,700.” He taps his finger on the counter. “So double that and you get either 5,660, or 7,400 calories.”</p><p>Bruce’s mouth opens. “Not near enough.”</p><p>Steve shakes his head. “Not even the minimum,” he says. “But carrying around triple rations isn’t exactly practical, so the solution they came up with, was giving me a surplus of D-rations.”</p><p>Bruce’s brow furls. “D-rations,” he repeats, tilting his head.</p><p>Steve nods and takes another sip of his tea. “D-rations were supposed to be an emergency-meal replacement,” he says. “Basically, it was a four-ounce bar of chocolate.”</p><p><em>Ah,</em> Bruce thinks. This is where the chocolate comes in.</p><p>Steve huffs out a breath and looks down into his tea. “They were 600 calories each,” he says, looking back up at Bruce. “So in order to get enough calories… I had to eat three a day.”</p><p>Oh. Bruce is beginning to see the problem.</p><p>Steve grimaces and puts his mug down. “They weren’t that big,” he says, holding his hands up in a rectangle about the size of his palm. “But they weren’t really <em>good</em> either.” His mouth twists. “They weren’t designed to taste great, because they were supposed to be for emergencies, so they didn’t want soldiers just eating them whenever.”</p><p>Bruce nods slowly. “But you had to eat three a day.”</p><p>Steve nods back. “Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “And I couldn't <em>not </em>eat them, or trade them for something else, because I <em>needed </em>the calories. But after a while, I really started to hate them.” His mouth quirks up. “One time, I traded a kid from some village we were in, a bar for an apple he had. Bucky was real mad cuz an apple isn’t enough calories, but I just couldn’t eat the chocolate anymore.”</p><p>He sucks in a breath through his nose and picks up his tea again. “I probably found every combination of rations possible to help choke those things down,” he says. “The bar could be crumbled into a powder for hot chocolate, or you could make a sort of paste with it if you got it wet…” He trails off for a moment and shudders, taking another sip of his drink.</p><p>“But yeah,” he says, looking up at Bruce. “After three of those things a day, for two years…” He rolls his shoulders, his lips pressing together. “And— and you couldn’t eat them quickly either,” he says. “Or else you’d get a stomach-ache. And now…” His jaw flexes and his hand clenches on his mug slightly. “I find I don’t even like the smell anymore,” he says. “The thought of eating chocolate—” He swallows back a gag and shakes his head. “Yeah I can’t do it anymore.”</p><p>Bruce’s mind suddenly flashes back to how uncomfortable Steve had been a few weeks ago, when the two of them had been manning the hot chocolate station. If even the smell of chocolate bothers him then… that would explain it. “Wait,” he looks up. “Didn’t Clint get you chocolate for Christmas?”</p><p>Steve looks sheepishly off to the side and swirls his mug a little. “Yeah…” he says, lifting one hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I just left it for you guys. I felt kind of bad not trying any, because he meant well but…” A shiver runs through him and he quickly takes another drink from his cup.</p><p>Bruce flicks his eyes over Steve and it’s clear to him that his aversion to chocolate goes beyond a simple ‘dislike’. <em>It’s really more of a trauma,</em> he thinks quietly to himself. The smell, taste, and even the <em>thought</em> of chocolate seems to make Steve slightly nauseous, and he hadn't even <em>said </em>anything about it.</p><p>“I wish you’d told us,” Bruce finds himself saying. “Then we could’ve helped you avoid it.”</p><p>Steve glances down to his mug and shrugs, pursing his lips slightly. “I didn’t think it was really a big deal,” he says quietly.</p><p>Bruce thinks back to how Steve had practically fled from the hot chocolate upstairs, and he thinks privately that it is probably a bigger deal than the man will admit. “It’s not a big deal to be able to keep away from it either,” he says softly, trying to catch Steve’s eye. “If you don’t mind me telling the other Avengers about this, then I’m sure they’d like to help make you more comfortable.”</p><p>In front of him, Steve chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment, obviously debating whether or not to give Bruce permission to tell the others. “I guess I don’t mind,” he says finally, letting out a breath. “Just… try not to let Clint feel too bad, okay? I appreciated the thought behind his gift, even if I couldn’t eat it.”</p><p>Bruce nods and sits up. “Sure thing,” he says with a smile, pushing himself away from Steve’s counter. He pauses and catches Steve gaze. “Thank you for telling me,” he says. “And for letting me tell the others.”</p><p>Steve blinks at him and offers him his own small smile in return. “Thank you too,” he says softly.</p><p> </p><p>oOo</p><p> </p><p>Bruce makes it up to the common room, and finds the other Avengers still at the counter, their mugs empty and the marshmallow bowl ravished. “Hey Bruce,” Tony calls as he returns. “Steve okay?”</p><p>Bruce nods and comes around the counter, grabbing the now cold mug that had been left for Steve and turning to pour it down the drain. “More or less,” he says. “I figured out what the problem was though.”</p><p>And then he explains the problem as best as he can, the other Avengers all grimacing at the idea of just how <em>many </em>chocolate bars Steve had had to eat.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony says, once he’s finished. “I think I’d be turned off from chocolate for life too, if I had to do that.”</p><p>“I guess I’ll have to find a different candy for him,” Clint says, leaning his chin on his hand as he thinks. He had been a little devastated to learn about Steve’s aversion to chocolate, since he had unknowingly given him some, but it hadn’t taken much convincing from the others to assure him that it had only been an unfortunate accident.</p><p>Bruce nods at him and can’t help smiling. He isn’t surprised by the Avengers’ understanding response, and he very much doubts that anything chocolate will find its way into the common room ever again. He wishes that Steve had felt comfortable telling them about this before, since then he probably would have been less stressed these last few weeks…</p><p>But at least they can work on taking care of that for him now.  </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is a headcanon of mine that I’ve had ever since I did some research into WW2 rations, and realised that even double rations wouldn’t be enough to supplement Steve’s serum very well.</p><p>I cannot even imagine having to eat the amount of chocolate that he did. I would definitely get sick of it. *shudders*</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZtaBrQ-3EA">Here</a> is a video of someone who tests and reviews rations (12 mins). I cannot recommend it enough! I learned a lot about the D-ration from it for this. He said the D-ration was designed to taste just slightly better than a boiled potato.</p><p>My tumblr:<a href="https://16woodsequ.tumblr.com/">16woodsequ</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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